don't. stop talking like it's an inevitability. you can't just give up and leave me behind. i can't do any of this without you.
[ it isn't a goodbye, but it rings clear with the omen of one — nikolai lantsov's final promise to her, a swan song she doesn't want to hear. the same old, familiar dread spikes through her — an old friend that had stayed with her through the war when nikolai had disappeared in the attack on os alta. when her knife had plunged through mal's heart. when fedyor's deadened eyes had peered back at her. that haunting prophecy that she would, at the end of it all, find herself alone.
they've lost too much, and given too many goodbyes for her to add another to the list. ]
it's funny. out of everything you've just said about me, it's only the last part i believe.
[ i wish i didn't even know you. sometimes, she wishes none of them had ever known her at all. sometimes, she wishes for ratty clothing and lumpy mattresses in an orphanage that's as lost to her as that girl who didn't dare to dream for more than a full stomach. that girl who might have had those quiet, peaceful moments in the countryside with mal, who would have never known to reach for her powers. sometimes, she wishes she could pretend she could ever part with the light inside of her.
she had stopped mourning the death of that impossible fantasy long ago. ]
maybe because you've made it the easiest to believe. so much for not adding me to your list of regrets.
no subject
you can't just give up and leave me behind. i can't do any of this without you.
[ it isn't a goodbye, but it rings clear with the omen of one — nikolai lantsov's final promise to her, a swan song she doesn't want to hear. the same old, familiar dread spikes through her — an old friend that had stayed with her through the war when nikolai had disappeared in the attack on os alta. when her knife had plunged through mal's heart. when fedyor's deadened eyes had peered back at her. that haunting prophecy that she would, at the end of it all, find herself alone.
they've lost too much, and given too many goodbyes for her to add another to the list. ]
it's funny. out of everything you've just said about me, it's only the last part i believe.
[ i wish i didn't even know you. sometimes, she wishes none of them had ever known her at all. sometimes, she wishes for ratty clothing and lumpy mattresses in an orphanage that's as lost to her as that girl who didn't dare to dream for more than a full stomach. that girl who might have had those quiet, peaceful moments in the countryside with mal, who would have never known to reach for her powers. sometimes, she wishes she could pretend she could ever part with the light inside of her.
she had stopped mourning the death of that impossible fantasy long ago. ]
maybe because you've made it the easiest to believe.
so much for not adding me to your list of regrets.